The Tale Of Victor Shelton

The Tale of Victor Shelton

Tessa Walters

 

            While Victor sat with Maxwell at his side, Victor allowed himself to think back to the time of his dear Helena’s Death. He rarely allowed himself to think of such a dreadful time. When someone mentioned it he simply got up and left the room. Oh dear, how is he suppose to get through the funeral? Victor tensed up having such terrible thoughts. Maxwell noticed and tried to comfort him.

            “Would you like some tea? I can put some herbs in it to calm your nerves,” Maxwell said to him. Maxwell was a doctor, and he, himself announced Helena’s death.

            “No, Maxwell, but thank you for the offer,” Victor put his face in his palms. He couldn’t allow himself to cry anymore. He had to carry on with his daily life.

            “Just don’t think about it, Victor. Just get through the day, I know you can.” Maxwell said with enthusiasm.

“No, Maxwell, I need to sort out the story. That whole night seems like a wild blur.” Maxwell seemed rather hesitant about the idea, but let it go after Victor insisted.

Victor pulled out his hand watch and began opening it, and closing it. A nervous habit he has had since he was a boy. Click… Click….Click. Just like the sound he heard when Helena died…

*******

He was fidgeting with the hand watch, the chain still partly in his trench coat pocket. Helena lay on the bed. Her luscious black curls lay just below her shoulder. The candles made the shadows dance on the walls, like they were celebrating the soon to be spirit that may join them. Maxwell, as the Doctor, sat on the other side of the bed.

“She doesn’t have much longer…” Maxwell said trailing off. “Would you like me to leave the room so you can say your farewells?”

“Maxwell, isn’t there something you can do? Anything? Anything at all?!” Victor gently sat down on the side of the bed, making sure not to make any sudden movements.

“Victor, if there was anything, believe me, I would try!” Maxwell tells him.

“I understand….” Victor said. “Please leave the room, I would enjoy some alone time, to say goodbye….”

“Understood,” Maxwell said getting up. “Oh, have her drink this, it might make her last a few more minutes.” Maxwell handed Victor a small teacup, victor took it and set it on the side table.

“Helena…” Victor said her name softly. It sounded like beautiful poetry, like angles singing a lullaby, like a child chanting a prayer before he drifts off into a night of dreams. Victor set his hand on her forhead.

“Victor…” Helena whispered. She put his hand in her palms.